The Gift

This is based on a dream I had once. I was a gift for a young man on his birthday (complete with a bow around my neck!), and it seemed to be my job to introduce him to the delights of sex. So . . . here's hoping this goes well.

AN: On the island of Argonath, it has become custom for young men and women to have their first sexual experience on their sixteenth birthday. The teenager's parents select a 'gift' from the Gift Guild, and they would spend a week learning about sex from their 'gift'. The Gift Guild teaches their 'gifts' about introducing young people to sex and everything that goes with it.

This is the story of one such young man, and his journey into the sensual side of both himself and 'gift' he's given.

Jacob had been waiting for this day ever since he'd heard about it in the boy's room at school when he was ten. One of his friends had an older brother, who, once he hit his sixteenth birthday, was given a woman as a gift. The woman was to teach him how to have sex for the first time, and not only introduce him to the things his body could feel, but also what he could make his partner feel. You were allowed to stay at home and have as much sex as you wanted with the “gift”, as long as you didn't damage her in any way, and for a whole week! No need to make up classes, or skip school! The teenager's parents dropped a note off at school, or sent it with a younger sibling, to explain their absence.

At first, the thought of sex had kind of grossed him out, but as he'd gotten older and started noticing the changes in his body, did he realize that the 'gift' would help him with the urges he didn't quite understand and had a hard time dealing with, especially when they seemed to pop up- pun intended- out of nowhere.

His birthday was the next day, and he was both nervous and excited at the prospect of having his own “gift” come to him tomorrow morning, complete with a bow around her neck, to teach him how to please a woman. Quickly wiping his hands along his jeans to get rid of the sweat that gathered there at the thought of his upcoming rite of passage, he wondered what she might look like or how it would ultimately feel to reach orgasm.

Every child in school was taught that waiting for their sixteenth birthday was better than reaching orgasm on their own. Oh, the temptation was there, of course, but with each generation before them telling them how wonderful it was with a partner and how much better it felt than doing it alone, each and every student, that Jacob knew anyway, hadn't even touched themselves there except for bathing purposes since the age of ten.

“Easy, Jacob,” he mumbled to himself, knowing it wouldn't do him any good to wander around school the rest of the day with an erection. “Just wait until tomorrow.” Getting through the remainder of the day wasn't easy: each of his teachers gave him knowing, understanding smiles, and all of his friends were demanding to know what it felt like when he came back to school the next week. A couple of his friends, older by a month or so, dropped by during lunch to give him a little pep talk.

“Don't be nervous, Jacob,” Billy, his oldest friend from back in kindergarten, told him when he dropped by his table during lunch. “Your 'gift' will tell you what to do. Just listen to her and remember what she says.”

“Yeah, man,” George replied with a laugh, clapping a hand to his shoulder, “she'll take care of you.”

“Thanks, guys,” Jacob answered, turning away to hide his blush at their 'advice'. “See you next week.”

“Next week you get to join us on the other side of the cafeteria, Jacob!” Billy said with a smile. “We'll actually get to hang out again!”

“Sweet!” George crowed, happy to have his friend to talk to again while at school. The older teens, or the ones who had just finished their weeks with their 'gifts' were separated from the younger kids during lunch and school assemblies, and even had a building on the other side of campus to keep them from telling the younger kids about what happened during that week. A lot of the younger kids already knew, though, mostly due to older siblings, but the school liked to keep the illusion of innocence for the youngest members of the student body.

After school was another matter, but since the 'gift' and the receiver's parent's signed an agreement that nothing of what happened would be spoken of until the receiver reached nineteen and penalties for breaking that contract were steep, nothing that shouldn't be spoken of in front of children ever had been.

Jacob had trouble falling asleep that night, hoping and praying that he wouldn't embarrass himself in the night or with his 'gift' the next day.


Lady Elizabeth dressed with care this particular morning, though the sun had barely risen above the horizon. She was to be 'gifted' to a young man today, and she wanted to look sexy, but not too sexy that he lost his nerve. She drew her thick, mink brown hair back into a braid and tied with an emerald ribbon that matched her eyes as well as the ribbon around her neck. Her bra, a simple design in a lighter shade of green with matching underwear, were covered by a faded blue jean skirt and a silk blouse the color of ripe peaches. No need to scare the poor kid with a corset and stocking set right away. That, if he was up for seeing it, came later. The boy's parents had told her that his favorite color was green, especially the deeper shades, so she hunted through her closet for everything green and went shopping for what she didn't already have.

She wondered about the boy she was to be given to, but knew that she wasn't allowed to know much more than his name and what he liked in a general sort of way until the day she met him. He was as much a mystery to her as she was to him, and it worked out better that way in the long run. As long as neither knew too much about the other, there would be no deep attachments that could make things difficult on both parties. Once the week was up, she was to leave and never see him again, at least not on purpose. Sometimes in the past, 'gifts' and their 'owners' had met by accident on the street or in a restaurant, which was now why 'gifts' often came from the far side of the town where their 'owner' lived. It cut down on accidental meetings, and made it difficult for an 'owner' to make his or her way across town on their own.

“Ready?” her driver for this morning, Anton, asked when he knocked on her door. Checking herself and her bag one last time, she nodded that she had everything she needed and followed him as he carried her bag to the car. Once the ribbon was around her neck, she was forbidden to speak to anyone but her 'owner' until he told her otherwise, and she was not to have sex with another until her week as a 'gift' was over. That was perfectly all right with her, as Anton always made her a little nervous, anyway. The drive was silent, and for that she was grateful, because while she'd done this enough times to realize that she was teaching these boys about women and sex, she still had a hard time getting over the fact that she would be staying with strangers for an entire week.

She was as much a stranger to these people as they were to her, and there had been a couple of times when neither she nor the parents knew what to do around each other. Her handler had told her to tell parents of potential clients to treat her like a guest, but had also warned her not to get too comfortable because she wouldn't be staying that long at all. Ever since she had gone through her own womanhood rite at sixteen, she hadn't felt the need to get married or raise a family of her own, so she had joined the Gift Guild. It was steady work and the benefits were really . . . enjoyable once her 'owner' got the hang of the act itself.

“We're here,” Anton said quietly, breaking into her reverie. The house was a modest one, two stories in a shade of blue that made her think of the ocean. The windows sparkled in the early morning sun, and the lawn had been freshly mowed. An impressive looking mountain bike lay on it's side not far from the garage, where she imagined her 'owner' had left it the night before. She mentally shook herself and slid out of the car when Anton opened the door for her. Nodding her thanks when he handed her the bag she'd brought with her, she walked up the stairs and knocked on the door. A gentleman of about forty-five, with black hair going silver at the temples and eyes almost as blue as ice, answered the door.

“Right on time,” he said, stepping back to allow her to enter. “Follow me, please.” She did so, taking in the feel of the house as she did. It was a little larger than some of the places she'd been recently, and she wondered idly to herself just how many people lived in it. When they came to her the first time, they told her that they only had the one son living at home now, while the other had gone off to college and he also had a married older sister. She was to stay in the older daughter's room during her time here, and would have access to her own bathroom. “This is mine and my wife's room,” he told her, gesturing to the first door off the stairs. “That door there is the bathroom, and the laundry room is between it and my son's room.” When he looked over his shoulder, she nodded to show that she understood. “Here's my office and your room is across the hall from my son.” She nodded again, stopping him from opening his son's door for a moment so she could set her bag on the bed in 'her' room.

“Do you want to wait until he wakes up or go in now?” She smiled gently at how nervous he sounded now, his own experience of a 'gift' quite different from the ones currently available. “You won't hurt him?” She shook her head sharply with an annoyed huff before making an 'x' over her heart to show him that she meant it. He laughed softly at that, and moved away from the door. “Teach him well.”

“I will,” she mouthed silently, making him smile again as he walked back to his own room, probably to wake his wife as she was going to do his son. Laughing quietly to herself, she eased the door open and carefully closed it behind her. The room was spacious, a desk pushed against the wall with a fairly new computer somewhat buried under the clutter that only a teenage boy could accumulate: old test papers, notes and even a few comic books. A shelf above it held reference books on everything from planes to rockets, geology to anatomy. Whatever this kid is studying, he must be good at it,she thought to herself with a smile, because most of these tests have, at the very least, an A. Bookshelves on another wall held more books, as well as rocks in various colors and sizes and even a stick that had a knot in it that looked sort of like face.

Her 'owner' was sound asleep on a queen sized bed, which she approved of for space reasons, his eyebrows drawn together as if what he was dreaming about wasn't particularly pleasant or needed fierce concentration for. Her smile growing into a smirk, she knew she could ease that look off of his face with a few expert touches in the right places. Would it be better to wake him that way, or let him wake up on his own? Lady Elizabeth wondered as she watched him sleep. She knew teenaged boys, however, and how much they could sleep when allowed to, so she decided to wake him, but gently. It would be his first time, after all, and she didn't want to scare him too badly.

Her hands went to the buttons of her blouse first, easing each button loose slowly, allowing herself time to get in the mood. She left it on for the moment, along with her bra, but shimmied out of her panties and unhooked her skirt before sitting on the side of the bed. Reaching out, she ran her hand through her owner's hair, as dark as his father's, enjoying the silky feel of it between her fingers. Wondering how it would feel between her thighs, she let her hand wander gently across his face, cupping his cheek in her hand for a moment before slowly going lower.

Pushing the blankets down to his waist, she wasn't surprised to find him shirtless as she used both hands to explore his shoulders, working her way down to his hands then back up. His skin, still warm from sleep, was firm under her fingers. The body currently under her hands reminded her of a long-distance runner: built for endurance, long and lean without being gawky. Once she reached his shoulders again, her hands drifted lower. As her hands ghosted down his sides, he sucked in a breath and held it, giving her just enough room to reach under the waistband of his sweats without having to loosen the tie holding them to his trim hips.

Oh, my, she thought to herself as she pushed the blankets farther towards his feet along with his sweats. Lucky me! His morning erection was impressive, to say the very least, and she couldn't wait to teach him how to use it. Wrapping one hand around it, she squeezed it and began moving her hand slowly, getting used to the feel of him, hot and hard in her hand. The other hand went lower, cupping his testicles and massaging gently. Lady Elizabeth was so focused on him that she knew the instant he woke up, a gasping groan clearing his lips as his his hips found the rhythm of her hand as she worked on him.

“A-Are you my gift?” he asked, his eyes flying open at the unexpected sensation of hands on him. She nodded, bending a little to lick the pearly drops of fluid leaking from his cock now. He hissed in pleasure at the touch, feeling it from the top of his head to his toes. “What's your name?”

“You may call me whatever you like, Sir,” she replied, her voice dropping to a seductive purr. She opened her lips and drew him in, inch by inch, allowing him time to get used to the new sensation.

“Oh, God!” he moaned, deep in his throat as she pulled back before repeating the delicious torture. “What do you like to be called, though?”

“That's up to you, Sir.” She went back to what she was doing before, increasing the suction she used each time she went down a little more. “I don't have a name until you give me one, Sir.”

“H-how about 'Kitten'?” he asked around another gasp as she went farther down than before, taking him deep into her mouth. His hands came up to her head by instinct but he paused, unsure of what to do with them. Jacob knew he was allowed to touch her, but he didn't want to hurt her or make her uncomfortable by just shoving her mouth down on him.

“As Sir wishes,” she answered with that throaty purr in her voice. His eyes all but rolled back in his head as the vibration traveled down his cock to his balls.

“Don't call me 'Sir', Kitten,” he managed, his own voice sounding off. It was deeper than normal, and kind of scratchy, like gravel. “Call me Jacob, or Jack.”

“Would 'Sir Jack' please you?”

“It would, Kitten.”

“Sir Jack it is, then,” she murmured distractedly, her mind on more important matters now. She continued, adding little flicks of her tongue to her ministrations, drawing moan after groan from him. His hips began to rise, following her rhythm as she worked on him. Suddenly, he stiffened under her and tried to push her away, but she wouldn't allow it. Catching his eyes with hers, she pulled back, keeping just the tip of his cock between her lips before driving down and taking him deeper than she had before. She worked her throat muscles like she was trying to swallow him and with a cry, she felt him release down her throat, automatically swallowing his seed.

“I'm so-sorry, Kitten,” he mumbled when he could breathe again. “I didn't mean--”

“I liked it, Sir Jack,” she said, waving off his apology. “If I hadn't wanted you to do it, then I would have pulled away.”

“Do women really like it?”

“Some do, some don't, Sir Jack,” she answered honestly with a shrug. “It's best to ask before it happens or to at least talk about it before doing what I just did for you.” He nodded, feeling himself growing hard again at the thought of what had just happened to him. “Ready for more already, Sir Jack?”

“Yes, but first, I want to see you, Kitten.”

“All right, Sir Jack,” she answered, lifting her hands to her blouse before sliding it down her arms and off. When Jacob sat up, reaching one hand out to see if her skin was as soft as it looked, she reached behind her and undid the clasp of her bra. As she started to ease the straps off her shoulders, he stopped her and did it himself before drawing it away.

“Wow,” he murmured as he gently touched her right nipple before moving to the other. He'd seen bare breasts before, in magazines, but this was the first pair he was allowed to touch. Smiling, she took his hand and pressed it to her breast, moving her hand over his to show him what made her gasp and moan deep in her throat. “Are all women this sensitive, Kitten?”

“Every woman is different, Sir Jack,” she replied around a gasp as he pinched her nipple between two fingers. “Certain sounds or moves she makes will tell you what she likes.”

“Moves? Like what?”

“Pinch both nipples, Sir Jack,” she instructed breathlessly, and when he did, her back arched and her head fell back on a long moan. “Like that, Sir Jack. If I push them toward you, I like what you're doing.” Rising slightly to shimmy her skirt off without breaking away, she climbed over him to settle on the bed with him, stretched out flat on her back with him raised on an elbow beside her. His growing erection was pressed against her right thigh, and she was fairly sure he wasn't aware that he was rocking his hips against her, but she wasn't going to draw attention to it just yet.

“What about down there, Kitten?”

“We'll start with the top, Sir Jack, and work our way down.”

“But--”

“Not too fast, Sir Jack,” she chided gently with an understanding smile. “We'll get there, just not yet.” She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. He stiffened at the contact, but eventually relaxed when she made no further move, letting him adjust at his own pace, putting no demands into the kiss. Pulling back a moment before doing it again, she drew him into the next kiss, tilting her head a little and flicking her tongue against his lips. His opened his mouth a little and followed her lead. She sighed against his mouth and opened her lips a bit more, allowing him further entry into her mouth. Hesitantly, still unsure, he was willing to follow where she led, but wary of going too far too fast.

Reaching down with one hand, she brought his free hand up to her breast and encouraged him to knead it like before, gently tweaking her nipple as he did. Her back arched and she moaned into his mouth, and he seemed to loosen up a little more at the encouragement she gave him. His tongue dueled freely with hers now, leading as well as following. “What next, Kitten?”

“Again, not all women are the same, Sir Jack,” she stated breathlessly, her breast heaving under his hand as she fought for air. “The ears and neck are good places to start after kissing, and can be very sensitive to the right touch. Try different things until you know what each woman likes.”

“Like what?”

“Nibbling on an earlobe, Sir Jack,” she answered, leaning up to demonstrate and drawing a quick gasp of pleasure from him. “Flick your tongue along the outside of her ear.” She did so, but he jumped as it tickled. “You try now, Sir Jack.” Trusting her, he did as she said and was rewarded with gasps and cries from her. She turned her head a little, giving him easier access to her neck, and told him to try biting, gently, on the tendon there, drawing a finger down it to show him which one she meant. He did and the jolt of pleasure went straight to her core, drawing another moan from her.

“Sex seems to be a lot more involved than I thought, Kitten,” he remarked as he drew back, and without thinking about it, started dropping kisses from where he'd just bitten down her neck toward her breasts.

“It can be, Sir Jack,” she admitted with a shrug, “at least at first. Once you get the basics down, the rest sort of flows from there. You're doing very well, so far.”

“What about what you did for me? Can I do the same for you, Kitten?”

“Of course, Sir Jack,” she replied, losing her train of thought when his mouth closed over her nipple. He flicked his tongue against the pebbled tip and her hand went to the back of his head to press him close even as her back arched. “Where did you learn that, Sir Jack?”

“From what you did to me earlier, Kitten,” he stated, lifting his head. She saw wariness in his eyes, as if he was afraid he'd jumped ahead and was going to have to stop. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, Sir Jack,” she answered with a smile, “you did just fine. Perhaps you'd like to do the same to the other one?” He did, earning a long, low moan from her for his efforts. Sir Jack kept going and she offered various comments about his technique, but for the next few minutes, her advice was relegated to “Just like that, Sir Jack,” and other variants thereof.

“Kitten?” he asked, lifting his head to look into her incredible eyes.

“Yes, Sir Jack?” she acknowledged, untangling her fingers from his hair. She didn't think she'd ever been this turned on by an 'owner' before, and she could hardly wait to introduce him to to penetration.

“Can I touch you down there now?”

“Yes, Sir Jack, but caress my skin as you go,” she advised with a nod. “All women like to know that you appreciate their body and it makes a woman feel special and sexy.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely, Sir Jack.” He followed her directions, gently massaging her muscles as his hand slowly moved south. When he felt pubic hair beneath his hand, he paused.

“Now what, Kitten?” She reached down with one hand and guided his to her clitoris.

“Use one finger, Sir Jack,” she instructed, unable to keep her hips from lifting against their joined hands, “and press against that little nub there.” She couldn't help the pleading moan that fell from her lips when he began to wiggle his finger against her.

“You're so wet down there, Kitten,” he said in amazement as she writhed against his hand. “Is that supposed to happen?”

“Yes, Sir Jack,” she replied, unable to tell if she was answering his question or offering encouragement now. “The wetter a woman is there, the more aroused she is and the more she enjoys sex.”

“What now, Kitten?” Using her other hand, she wrapped her hand around his erection, which was thicker than it had been before and, if it was possible, even harder than it had been when she woke him. Gently tugging on it, she directed him to settle between her thighs and aligned him at her entrance.

“Push in, Sir Jack,” she told him, and he followed her directions. Her hips lifted toward him as he slowly pushed in, seating himself to the hilt inside her.

“Good God,” he moaned at the feel of her hot, slick muscles gripping him along his length. “I-It's better than I t-thought it would be.”

“Don't stop now, Sir Jack,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his back. “Pull back a little then push back in again.” He did and she moaned, her hips rising again to meet him. “You're on your own now, Sir Jack. Do what feels right to you.”

“What if I hurt you?”

“I'll tell you, Sir Jack.” Taking her at her word, he began plunging in and out, picking up the pace and almost slamming home when he came back. “Oh, yes, Sir Jack!”

“You like that, Kitten?” She nodded as her nails scraped lightly down his back to grip his hips to hold him to her as she rose beneath him, grinding her pelvis against his. Getting an idea, he reached down with one hand and stroked the little nub of flesh she'd pointed out earlier. She went wild beneath him, writhing in ecstasy as her walls tightened around him.

“Harder, Sir Jack!” she cried and he drove into her harder, slamming home and increased the pressure of his finger at the same time. “Oh, God, that feels so good!”

“Kitten, I think I”m going to--”

“Me, too!” she gasped, lifting her legs to wrap them around him. “God, me, too!” With a cry he buried in her throat he came, and he felt her sheath close around him, tight almost to the point of pain but somehow even hotter than she'd been before. He collapsed on top of her, breathing hard against her neck. “Are you all right, Sir Jack?” she asked after a few minutes.

“I'm ok, Kitten,” he replied, pulling back enough to look into her face. “That was . . . amazing.”

“It gets better, Sir Jack,” she told him with a chuckle. “It just takes practice.”

“So what happens now?”

“Well, if you're willing, we go again in a little bit. If you're not, we can talk about other things you want to know. Part of what I'm here for is to answer your questions about sex.”

“Do you want me to, uh--”

“Up to you, Sir Jack. I don't mind.” With a laugh, he drew his softening member from the haven of her body and sat back. Pushing his sweaty hair back from his face, he looked down at her flushed body spread like an offering below him. The only thing she wore now was the emerald ribbon around her neck. While he wondered what more she could teach him, he wasn't sure what to do now. Did he want to go again or was his curiosity about sex enough to keep him occupied for now? “Sir Jack? Are you all right?”

“Yes, Kitten,” he replied distractedly, waving one hand in dismissal, “I'm just thinking.”

“About what?”

“What question to ask first, or if I want to go again.” She smiled at him, sitting up to cup his cheek in her hand.

“When you decide, let me know, Sir Jack,” she said gently, leaning in to give him a kiss on the other cheek. “I'll be more than willing to do either one. I'm here for you, Sir Jack.”

“I know, Kitten.”

“Why don't you come down here, Sir Jack?” she asked, laying back and patting the bed beside her. “We might as well be comfortable.” He joined her, and once he was comfortable, she pulled the blankets back onto the bed and curled into his side. She waited for him to speak, not pressuring him, and used the time to think about what he'd ask first.

“What was it like for you, Kitten?” he asked quietly, running a couple of fingers up and down her arm. “Your first time, I mean.”

“My gift was very gentle with me,” she replied, thinking back to her own birthday, “always making sure that I wasn't nervous or confused about what he was doing.” She chuckled lightly, reminiscently. “When he first touched my clitoris, I jumped about a foot in the air. No one told me about that little bundle of nerves, and how good it could make me feel.”

“Who was he?”

“I called him 'Puppy' and he called me his 'lady'. He was so attentive and so very kind in answering my questions. Puppy never told me my questions or reactions weren't normal or stupid.”

“Did you miss him after your week was over?”

“A little bit, but I knew that he was making another girl, like me, very happy.” She sighed a little, then continued, “It's because of him that I decided to be a 'gift' myself.”

“How many times have you been a gift, Kitten?”

“Quite a few, Sir Jack,” she replied with a little laugh. “Some have caught on quickly and some took a little longer, but before I left, each young man I've taught has known as much as I could teach them.”

“Have you ever met them later?”

“A couple of them, yes. They were happy to see me, but it was kind of embarrassing for them to meet their 'gift' while out with their fiancees.”

“I imagine it would be, Kitten,” he chuckled, tightening his arm around her a little. “What would you like to do now?”

“How about we shower together?” she said with a suggestive purr in her voice. “We can move on to the next lesson, Sir Jack.”

“Sounds good, Kitten.” A knock on the door caught their attention as they were getting out of bed. They both dived back under the covers, covering themselves quickly. “Yeah?” Jacob called, hoping whichever of his parents was on the other side wouldn't open the door.

“Good morning, Jacob,” his mother answered through the door. “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks, Mom!”

“Were you and your guest going to come down to breakfast anytime soon, sweetie?”

“After I take a shower, Mom,” he replied, turning beet red at the thought of eating breakfast with his parents after, quite possibly, having sex in the shower with his Kitten.

“All right, then,” she called, moving away from the door. With a heartfelt groan, he buried his face in his hands, trying to ignore the giggles coming from his bed mate.

“You're not helping, Kitten,” he growled at her, not lifting his head.

“Sir Jack, you have no idea how awkward this is for me, too,” she giggled, leaning against his side as she held her stomach.

“For you, Kitten? After a week, you get to leave. I have to deal with the teasing for years to come.”

“I have to go downstairs, knowing that your parents know what I'm here for, and make conversation like I'm visiting family.”

“It doesn't get easier?” He lifted his head to look at her now, able to see the nervousness she couldn't quite hide, despite having done this before.

“Not appreciably, no,” she replied with a sigh, trying hard to control the almost hysterical laughter that kept wanting to bubble out. “Another thing I had trouble getting used to was that with this around my neck,” she said, pointing at the ribbon around her throat, “is that I can't speak to anyone else unless you tell me that it's all right.”

“Really?” Jacob asked incredulously, stunned that he hadn't heard that particular rule about 'gifts' before. “Is that why you didn't talk until I did?”

“Yes, and also why I called you 'Sir' until you told me I could call you 'Sir Jack'.”

“Wow,” he murmured, thinking that little tidbit over as he stood, offering her his hand to help her up. “What would you call my parents when we go down to breakfast, then?”

“They would be 'Sir' and 'Ma'am', Sir Jack,” she answered, picking up her blouse and slipping it back on. “Which bathroom? Your father gave me your sister's room to use, so I have one, or would you rather use the one in the hall?”

“We'll use yours, Kitten,” he replied firmly, scooping up his sweats and drawing them up to his hips. “Mom keeps towels and soaps stocked in there for guests, anyway, and it would definitely be better if there's a lock on the door between them and us for a bit.”

“I agree.” Jacob opened the door slightly and peeked down the hall to make sure the coast was clear. Crossing the hall in only two long strides, he had the door to her room open and was motioning her inside. Scooting across in his wake, she stopped at the door to give him a quick peck on the cheek before making her way to the bathroom to start the shower. As she bent over to adjust the temperature, he grabbed her hips and drew her back against him.

“Could this be our next position, Kitten?”

“Of course it can, Sir Jack,” she replied, tossing a smoldering look over her shoulder at him. “It's a personal favorite of mine, to be honest.”

“We'll have to try it then, Kitten,” he told her, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

“Let's get clean before we get dirty again, shall we, Sir Jack?” she suggested, standing slowly to shed her blouse again and step into the shower. Dropping his sweats, he joined her. When the pair finally made their way down to breakfast, there was very little hot water left, and they were both ravenous.


Breakfast was tense at first, but thanks to his father and Kitten, it passed without major embarrassment for anyone. Dressed comfortably, with her slightly lighter hair, Kitten could have passed as a relative of his mother's, perhaps a cousin or maybe a niece. Jacob had expected some subtle teasing, but there was none. He wasn't sure if it was his father's doing or the contract they signed with the Gift Guild that kept them from discussing what had happened in his room this morning.

After a reminder that his grandparents were coming that day, his mother dismissed them to continue his 'education'. Escaping while they could, the pair all but ran up the stairs to get back to his room. “That could have been worse, Kitten,” he panted, locking the door and shoving his desk chair under the knob to keep it closed.

“It certainly could have, Sir Jack,” she replied, dropping to sit on the edge of his bed and push a hand through her still damp hair. “Your father was a life-saver with the way he steered the conversation away from what we did and will do in here for a week.”

“He did a great job,” he said, dropping to sit beside her. “Most of the time, my dad's not a big talker in the morning. He's usually almost asleep and thinking about his job too much to join the talk at the table.” He slanted a look her way and smiled. “You did well, too, Kitten.”

“Thank you, Sir Jack,” she answered with her own smile a little sly around the edges. “Would you like to show your appreciation for my skilled . . . tongue in another way?”

“I believe I would,” he laughed and leaned in to kiss her. She wasn't sure why, but that laugh set the tone for the next experience: he searched out and found the places that made her giggle as well as the ones that made her sigh and moan, and she did the same for him, their clothes falling to the floor, forgotten in the moment. 'Fun' was exactly how she would describe it later, though the feeling they stirred between them was anything but. When she moaned out his name as his tongue reached her most sensitive spot, she sensed his satisfaction and his absolute focus to bring her to orgasm with his tongue alone. He sent her high, backed off just before she reached the pinnacle, then sent her higher. No matter how she twisted or turned, he was driving her up the peak, drawing her back when she tried to race ahead, and when she finally reached it, she snatched a pillow and screamed her release into it.

Her bones turned to liquid as he kissed his way back up her body, keeping her quivering and when he pressed his lips to hers again, she tasted herself. She had a brief thought that he was a fast learner and his first girlfriend was going to be one lucky lady. If Sir Jack put this kind of focus on her, what would he do with the girl he fell for?

“Dear God,” she moaned, all but sobbed it, when he slipped into her. He chuckled, the sound forced out at her almost reverent tone, and slowly started to move. She tried to move against him, but her body wouldn't listen to her. Sir Jack held her to the slow pace for a time, giving her time to get her breath back before he drew out of her and flipped her over. Seizing her hips, he pulled her back onto her knees and slid home again. “Oh, Sir Jack.”

“Hang on, Kitten,” he replied, bending over her to place a gentle kiss between her shoulders as he moved her arms, propping her up on her elbows. “We're going for a ride.” He barely moved, staying deep, and when she titled her hips just a little to take him deeper, he reached down with one hand and gently rubbed her clit before catching her hip to hold her in place.

“Oh, my dear God,” she moaned as his other hand roamed up her body, feather light caresses that made her shiver. Leaning forward, he palmed her breast and kneaded to the rhythm of his thrusts. “Sir Jack, where did you learn that?”

“Believe it or not, Kitten” he said, his voice rough and lightly panting in exertion, “I thought this up while at breakfast.”

That certainly explains the look on his face, she thought to herself with a giddy laugh, before her mind once again focused on what he was doing to her and what he made her feel. “Feels fabulous, Sir Jack,” she managed to get out, moaning deep in her throat when he pinched her nipple between his fingers on a particularly deep thrust. “Do that again.”

“With pleasure, Kitten,” he growled it out, slamming home and pinching her nipple in time to his thrusts while she writhed beneath him. His other hand released her hip to settle on her clit again, pressing down as he pulled back. Kitten's sheath closed around him, trying to hold him deep inside her, her cries and gasps driving him almost as much as his instincts now.

“Sir Jack, let me cum,” she begged, sobbing her pleasure as she pressed back against him. “Please, make me cum!” He did, sending her soaring then coming to a stop as her body milked him, wanting him to join her in pleasured oblivion. Jack drew the strength and will power to keep from doing just that from somewhere, but once she started to ease beneath him, he let go of her breast and sat up, thrusting deep again and again. There was a place he hit with each thrust that made her go wild beneath him, hidden in her body, and he hoped he'd remember to ask her about it when he could think clearly again.

“Come up on your hands, Kitten,” he ordered gruffly, wanting to drive deeper into her dripping channel. She obeyed immediately, bracing herself so he could have his way with her as he wished. His hand dipped between her legs again, stroking her throbbing clit gently, wary of causing her pain. She'd warned him during their shower that after too much stimulation that it could hurt to be touched there, so he contrasted his gentle touch with hard, deep thrusts. With a breathless scream of pleasure, she shattered under him again, this time taking him with her. He rested his head between her shoulders, breathing hard.

“Sir Jack,” she panted, her voice shaking almost as much as her arms, “that was . . . I've never . . . Wow.”

“You can say that again, Kitten,” he said, trying hard to hold his yawn back. He'd been too excited to sleep much the night before, and his body, while young, wasn't inexhaustible. “I could use a nap, Kitten. How about you?”

“I'm already asleep, Sir Jack.” He laughed a little, the vibration of their bodies interesting, given they were still locked together.

“And if I wake up before you do, Kitten?” he asked, pulling away despite his almost desperate desire to fall asleep inside her.

“Do what you have to do, Sir Jack,” she mumbled, waving a hand in dismissal at him, “just don't wake me. I'm a little cranky when I first wake up.”

“I'll keep that in mind, Kitten.” With that, he drew the covers up the bed and settled behind her where she had collapsed onto her side. He put his arm around her, his hand settling naturally on her breast, feeling her slowing heartbeat against his palm as he drifted into an exhausted sleep.


AN: Whew! This is where chapter 1 ends, and chapter 2 begins soon, I hope. Please review so I know where I might improve and what I got right.